The struggle of my own reading

Sitting on a bus trying to read a book, the key word being ‘trying’. 

It’s not the best location to read, the busyness of it all offers little peace, yet there is a peacefulness of sorts to it, just bot the right kind. Earbuds in, likely to provide further distraction yet I feel they are a neccessary evil to mask the drone of inconsistent conversation. With earbuds in at least I can choose my distraction and with that I can almost forget there’s even one there.

I find myself trying to read, reading each word yet odddly enough just like the music which I almost forget is there, I forget I’m reading. If I were asked to recount the songs which have played, I won’t be able and in the same way the story passes me by. I’ve read five pages before realising I’ve once again lost where I am, the words are there and I see them but I don’t take them in. My mind is elsewhere.

I go back and re-read the pages and take some of it in. A short time later I find the same predicament, having once again let myself tell me that I’m reading, but with no comprehension of ‘what’ I am reading. This isn’t the first time this has happened, in fact, over the course of the past few years my amount of reading has grown despairingly small. 

I feel that my original point does stand with distractions. Distractions have grown more prevalent in my life as I’ve aged. In my childhood I would have no problem reading as many as 3 or 4 books in a week, sure they were shorter, but I barely manage 3-4 books in a year at this stage. I wonder whether others find such dificulty or if they’ve found a way to abhere from such distractions, to abandon phones and other technology for periods of time, to temporarily banish thoughts of study, work and friends from mind.. even to forget the girl who plagues your thoughts for a brief moment. I don’t know if it’s possible. Perhaps I will find my own trick to it but with time it’s growing increasingly dificult.

At least writing gives me some relief, putting some of the distractions to rest. The two are very different, writing is your own thoughts and though it can almost flow as reading can, it requires a forcefulness and need of thought which reading just doesnt require. I guess we all think our own thoughts are more important, so there is a certain vanity to writing than to reading the words of others.


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